The Hunt
by Sam the Wise
Summary: They hunted them for sport. Their feathers sold for twenty a piece. But after years of hunting, they've become endangered. And how else to replenish the numbers of a dying species? AU and Fax. Lots and lots.


**_The Hunt_**

_Sam the Wise_

* * *

"Now for each one you kill, there's a two-percent tax that will be added to the monthly fee upholding your license. Are you aware?"

"Yep."

"Alright. Here's your permit. Keep to the outer edges of the forest, no deeper," The servicer pushed forward a white slip of paper. "And no young ones, Will. You understand?"

Of course, not the young mutants. He'd get fined if he brought back a kiddy. Ever since the Endangerment Policy came into effect, only adolescent and adult mutants were open for hunting. Too bad, Will thought. Kiddy feathers were so much softer.

Will snorted and slung his rifle over his shoulder, slipping the paper into his pocket. "Yeah," he said, flashing the servicer a grin. "I won't."

"You know the issue, Will. I have to revoke your permit if you kill any-"

"I won't."

There servicer grimaced and leaned away from the counter, waving Will out of the building with one hand,

Will made way for his truck and headed for the forest up ahead.

* * *

Doctor Amelia Krakauer was an older woman in her late forties, with straight brown hair kept in a bun and nasty-looking brown eyes. Her face seemed permanently frozen in an expression of utter boredom, unnerving to not only the young and inexperienced interns, but even her much older colleagues. She sat rigidly, as she always did, behind her polished oak desk, a desk with a miniscule assortment of items - namely, her name plaque, a black-and-gold fountain pen, and an old red box of tissues.

She was a rather clean woman, and not only in her personal space. Tidiness followed her everywhere; it was in her reports, her clothes, each room she visited seemed to clean itself in her presence as if afraid of the consequences.

As it should be. Amelia was a cold woman, if only to keep up a professional image. Hard to talk to but easy to amuse, no one bothered her unless they knew for sure they could catch her attention.

Straightening a small stack of signed papers, Dr. Krakauer looked up at the sound of light knocking. "Come in."

An intern, no older than twenty, peeked her head into the room. "Dr. Krakauer? The results have come in," Pushing the door all the way open, the girl entered and handed the packet she brought to Dr. Krakauer. "You won't like it…"

"Did the damn mutants start learning to hide yet?" Taking the papers, the older woman nodded as she read them through and waved the intern away. The papers were written by one Dr. Martinez.

Sniffing, Dr. Krakauer began to read aloud, "'Sightings: Minimal. Roughly four-hundred-and-twenty-two recorded and dwindling. Now have the status of Endangered. Suggest a Repopulation program, starting with members of a stronger 'Flock'. Before next week would be best.'"

Her brows rose to display her surprise. Only four-hundred-and-twenty-two? What had happened? Not a week ago there were more than a thousand, and now they were down to the lower hundreds! She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

How in the hell were they going to breed these damn things?

Dr. Krakauer set down the papers and pressed the buzzer to the right of her desk, and spoke into the speaker.

"Please send up Dr. Martinez. We have things to discuss. That is all."

* * *

Will's truck slowed to a stop on the outskirts of a thickly wooded forest, supposedly the most densely populated in the world. Conveniently located close to his home, too. Slinging his rifle across his shoulder and pocketing his keys, he set off into the trees as quietly as a one-hundred-and-eighty pound man in clodhoppers designed for a bear could be.

The forest itself was a hard place to find just about anything, and three hours in Will considered heading back then returning in the morning while his permit still held up.

Until, that is, he spotted the wide blue eyes of a motionless, winged mutant.

It was frozen in fear, he supposed, and since it looked much older than the average kiddy, he lifted his rifle up and leveled it with the skull of the mutant.

These things, he'd come to notice, were dumb. Incredibly, unbelievably dumb. It moved not an inch from its spot. And, before it could move to find cover, Will pulled harshly on the trigger, sending hardly noticeable jolts through his upper arms and shoulders. The rifle was indeed a powerful tool.

The bullet hit the mutant square between the eyes, tearing through skull and brain matter in seconds and sending splatters of dark crimson everywhere. Its head snapped back with enough force to break it, and its body slumped into the grass below. A clean kill, and a quick death. Nice gray feathers, too.

He'd make hundreds off this mutant alone, provided there were still buyers around these days. Their numbers had dwindled at the same time the mutant population started to go down, and now it was hard to find anyone willing to lose their morality for a few little feathers.

"Why don't I call you Pigeon? Your wings look like pigeon wings," Will said, inspecting the large feathered appendages on the mutants back. "Heh, no wonder you were so stupid. You're related to those dumb birds."

Wrapping his arms around the mutants middle, he lifted it into his arms with little to no effort. They could get big and tall, but they still weighed little over ninety pounds, give or take a few. To help them fly, he'd heard. Damn, he wished he could fly.

An hour later and Will had the mutant in the bed of the truck, covered with a green tarp.

He'd take pleasure in plucking those feathers and dumping the body once he got home.

* * *

"You called for me, Dr. Krakauer?" Dr. Martinez, rather new to the mutant research facility, asked.

Dr. Krakauer nodded. "You know of the mutants and their quickly-dying numbers?" She steepled her hands and looked up, blinking slowly. "They're endangered and dying much faster than any other animal on this planet, and we can't seem to stop it. I've received quite a few suggestions, but the one that caught my eye was yours."

Dr. Martinez looked utterly pleased with the woman's outlook on her suggestion. "A breeding program? Oh! Excellent! I've had it all planned out just in case you approved. We'd have to start by collecting two members - just two, so we don't upset the natural balance - from one of the stronger, sturdier Flocks. I'd suggest the one that hangs around the canyon-"

"Get to it, Doctor," Dr. Krakauer stared coldly at the rambling woman, who nodded curtly. "You'll get everything you need."

And she didn't even have to beg, as she had anticipated! Krakauer truly understood the necessity of this. Dr. Martinez thanked the older woman profusely before exiting the room to begin on her project.

* * *

**A/N: Well, there it is. I think this will be interesting and, depending on reviews, I will continue. That reminds me: Please do review! I love reviews. They make me quite happy and let me know people like and are reading my story. I tend not to continue, however, if I see that no one seems interested. So do that!**

**Oh and no, Will will (ha) not be returning in future chapters unless needed. I just wanted to show what people thought of the whole bird-kid hunting thing.**


End file.
